


Undercover and In Love

by raidelle



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Death Threats, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), Sexual Tension, Sheithmark, There Was Only One Room, but there's no death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28810032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raidelle/pseuds/raidelle
Summary: Lotor Sincline, heir of Sincline Industries, is about to marry Allura d'Altea, heiress of Alforsson Pharmaceuticals. Less than two weeks before "The Wedding of the Century," however, Marmora Security intercepts chatter containing death threats and ominous messages:You won't see us coming. You'll regret everything.Worried and desperate, Zarkon and Honerva Sincline hire a bodyguard for their son. Keith Kogane, Marmora Security's best close protection operative, takes on the job.Keith would like to say that he's quite good at what he does. The problem is that Takashi Shirogane, Lotor's best friend and best man, is one distractingly handsome specimen of the human race. How is Keith going to be able to concentrate on protecting Lotor and catching the bad guys, dammit?
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 120
Collections: Sheithmark 2021





	Undercover and In Love

**Author's Note:**

> This work's premise is based on the Hallmark Movie [Undercover Bridesmaid](https://www.hallmarkmoviesandmysteries.com/undercover-bridesmaid).
> 
> I'm not really sure how a bodyguard does their job, so please know that all of the bodyguard-y details here are personal assumptions made after basic research.
> 
> Regarding section breaks, asterisms (⁂) denote the passage of time within the same day; thick lines denote a new day entirely. I hope this helps with the flow of the story.

Keith watches with grim calm as Honerva Sincline clutches at her husband's arm. "But what does all of this 'chatter' mean, Mr. Marmora?" she asks, eyes wide and fearful. If she were standing, her knees would've been trembling along with her voice.

"It means that there's a plot to harm or kill your husband or your son, Mrs. Sincline," Kolivan informs her. "More likely your son."

His boss has always been blunt to the point of being severe, but Keith appreciates it about Kolivan. It makes their clients pay attention, which makes Keith's job a little easier.

"Why? What did we do? Who would want to do this?"

"We don't know, Mrs. Sincline, but the fact remains that a quantified threat is there," Kolivan says.

"You don't get to this point in a business man's career without making some enemies, ma'am," Keith adds, "I'm sure Mr. Sincline is well aware of this."

Zarkon Sincline, CEO of Sincline Industries—the planet's biggest tech conglomerate and weapons manufacturer—nods, his expression a combination of stoic and sad. "Unfortunately."

"Not to the point where someone is actively trying to harm you or Lotor!" Honerva exclaims.

Zarkon sighs, "That's true." He pats his wife's hand, still curled tight on his arm, and then addresses Kolivan and Keith. "It might surprise you, gentlemen, that the worst I've ever dealt with since I started Sincline Industries all those years ago is corporate espionage."

"Concerning due to the nature of your business but easily handled," Kolivan agrees.

"So you have no idea who it could be?" Keith presses.

"None at all."

"Not even those who sabotaged you before?"

"No." Zarkon sighs wearily.

"Would you advise postponing the wedding?"

Keith meets Lotor Sincline's piercing gaze. From the beginning of their briefing, the Sincline heir has barely said a word, choosing instead to listen and hold his bride-to-be's hands in his to offer reassurance. Now, his bright blue eyes take on a steely glint as he says, "I'm afraid that if we push through, it would also put Allura in danger."

Allura d'Altea, daughter of Alfor and Melenor d'Altea of Alforsson Pharmaceuticals fame, smiled at her fiance. She looks at once grateful, determined, and patient. "I think it's better to just go ahead, darling," she says. "Postponing seems like something that they would want us to do." 

"I agree," Keith says. "Right now, everything's already in place. If you reschedule the wedding, you'll have to make new plans. That means chaos, which benefits the enemy, because it's so much harder to protect you that way."

Kolivan gives Keith an approving nod. "Postponing 'The Wedding of the Century' can raise red flags, especially with less than two weeks to the date."

"Alright then," Lotor says in a manner that Keith thinks would serve him well once he's seated at the helm of the company in a few years' time. "What's the plan?"

"We're already coordinating with the local police force. We're also sending Mr. Kogane with you," Kolivan says, "Keith is our best close protection operative and he'll be assigned to Lotor. There will also —"

"Won't these… these _criminals_ know that we know of their plans if there's someone always tailing my son around?" Honerva cuts in. "I thought the point of pushing through with the wedding is to make it seem that nothing is wrong?"

"Ah, well, that's where our cover story comes in, ma'am."

"Cover story?" Lotor arches an eyebrow at Keith.

"Mm hmm," Keith hums. "It's ten days before the wedding so we have about six days to study these —" he passes a manila folder each to their clients " — and get the details straight before we have to fly out to your island destination. We usually have more time to prepare for this kind of op, but the timing really isn't on our side here. Hopefully, whoever has it out for you will be none the wiser about our plans."

Lotor, Allura, Zarkon, and Honerva open their folders as one, skimming the documents in a few seconds of silence. It's Lotor who breaks it with, "Well at least it's a plausible scenario, you posing as —"  


* * *

  
  
**_Three Days Before the Wedding_ **

"Akira Sinclair, this is Takashi Shirogane—" 

"Hi," Keith says as he extends a hand towards Lotor's best friend and best man, and possibly the most handsome human being Keith has ever seen. "It's nice to meet you, Takashi." He's quite proud that his voice didn't tremble. 

"—Takashi Shirogane, this is Akira Sinclair." 

"Hello, Akira. Please call me Shiro." He moves to take Keith's hand but then, as if suddenly realizing a social faux pas, pulls back at the last second with an almost imperceptible frown. 

Keith rushes to take the sleek titanium-and-carbon-fiber prosthetic hand in both of his own and gives it a hearty shake, smiling at Shiro as he does. It's important to earn this man's trust if he wants to do a good job of protecting Lotor and this seems to be a good place to start. 

He also feels an inexplicable need to soothe Shiro, although Keith doesn't understand why he's feeling it at all. "It's nice to meet you, Shiro." 

"Oh," Shiro blinks at their hands, looking surprised yet pleased. Their handshake lingers for a few seconds more before they let go. "Some people are a little, well… you know." He shrugs, as if the gesture explains everything. "Anyway… so you're Lotor's third cousin?" 

"Twice removed, says our convoluted family tree." 

"Wow," Shiro marvels. "I don't even have _cousins_ , let alone second- or third-degree ones." 

It's Keith's turn to blink in surprise. "You don't have cousins?" 

"I'm an only child. Both my parents are, too," Shiro says it almost wistfully. 

"Oh, of course. I didn't even think of that. It's just that my uncles have always —" 

He grew up with the Marmora side of his family, with at least a dozen aunts and uncles and cousins staying at their compound at any given time, more if there are holidays and weekend get-togethers. He couldn't imagine a life without them around, no matter how rowdy they can sometimes get. 

Then he realizes what he'd been about to say and he almost curses at his carelessness. "They've always um… been there. To visit… occasionally, you know?" 

Keith presses his lips together to stop himself from saying anything more and potentially blowing his cover. He gives himself an angry mental pep talk. _Gods, pull yourself together. So what if he's beautiful? You've ever seen beautiful men before! You can't afford to get distracted._

Lotor smiles, a sly little thing that somehow still exposes the glint of a canine. "Well, I certainly wish we could have visited each other more often back then. But we're here now and that's what matters most, doesn't it?" 

Keith only nods. 

"So you haven't really met until now?" Shiro asks as they enter the hotel. "How did you find out about each other?" 

"We uh… met a few times, I think? When we were children. In one of those things family things where you get introduced to too many relatives but you're too young to remember anyone." 

"Let's get Akira checked in first, hmm?" Lotor intervenes smoothly as he leads the way to the reception desk. "And then you can get to know each other while we have brunch with the rest of the wedding party." 

"Oh yeah. About that. Uh, I hope you aren't too tired from your flight to join us, Akira," Shiro says, rubbing his flesh hand on the buzz of his undercut. "I just… planned it when Lotor told us you were coming. It's completely okay if you prefer not to join us. I'll just have the staff bring you the—" 

"I'll be there." Keith, of course, doesn't add that he literally has to be there because it's part of his job. 

"Great!" 

"Good morning, Mr. Sincline!" The concierge greets their party of three with a bright smile as they reach the reception desk. 

"Good morning, Ezor." 

Keith recognizes her, one of their best undercover agents. He allows himself a second to marvel at how fast Kolivan had put her in position; Lotor and Shiro don't even seem surprised to see her there. 

"Do we have Mr. Sinclair's room ready?" 

"Oh, about that, sir," Ezor gives them an apologetic smile, which Keith sees through immediately. "We're booked solid because of that international music and arts festival happening on the main beach. I'm really sorry." 

Lotor frowns. "That's unfortunate," he mutters, "I knew I should've paid extra to close off the entire island for a week." 

Shiro snorts. "You would've had to pay the event organizers to reschedule everything, and likely all of their performers and guests. That would definitely cost you more than 'extra,' Lotor." 

Lotor crosses his arms and huffs, "I can afford it." 

Keith takes a split-second to narrow his eyes at Ezor; she responds with a barely perceptible nod. Satisfied that it's part of the plan, likely some last-second changes that Kolivan couldn't afford to run through by them, Keith plays along. "Well, what are our options?" 

"The groom's suite is a one-bedroom but we can set-up the mini-office or the game room with a foldaway if you want," Ezor says in a perfect customer service voice. 

Something must have come up, Keith thinks, if Kolivan has deemed it necessary to room with Lotor. "I guess that's—" 

"My room has a double and a queen," Shiro volunteers. It's so out of the blue, even Shiro himself looks surprised. He blushes right up to the tips of his ears ( _Gods, why is that so cute?_ Keith complains in his head half-heartedly), making the scar on the bridge of his nose stand out a little more; he soldiers on regardless, "I mean, I'm pretty sure you'll be more comfortable on a real bed? I understand if you want to stay with Lotor, though, I really won't be offended. I mean you probably want to catch up or something, but I just thought—" 

"Mr. Shirogane's room is beside Mr. Sincline's," Ezor says for both Keith's and Shiro's benefit. 

"Akira?" Lotor turns to Keith. His eyes seem to say, 'It's your job. Do what you think is best.' 

"I'll um… I'll stay with Shiro." 

Lotor nods and Shiro practically squawks, "Really?" He's still blushing, his cheeks and ears even pinker now. 

"If you don't mind?" 

"No, no, no, not at all! I was just…" Shiro rubs his hand on his undercut again and trails off. Keith is helplessly endeared. 

Ezor, meanwhile, is busy tapping on her computer; a few seconds later, she hands Keith a keycard. "Here you go, Mr. Sinclair." 

"Thanks." 

"I've updated the guest list, too, Mr. Sincline." 

"Alright, thank you," Lotor says curtly. Then he turns to Keith and Shiro, "I'll walk you to your room so you can settle down and then we'll go to the Lobby Lounge in about—" he checks his watch, "—an hour or so for brunch?" 

"Sure," Keith agrees easily. He can already hear Kolivan's voice in his head ( _We try to make your job easier and **this** is what you do?_). The least he can do is to see that Lotor makes it safely to his room.  
  


⁂

To ease his conscience and reassure Lotor, Keith makes a whole show of wanting to tour the groom's suite. Lotor acquiesces, while Shiro volunteers to bring Keith's luggage (which consists merely of one roll-away bag and one duffel) to their room.

"I feel like I'm stealing you away, you know, when you and Lotor are supposed to be catching up. Please let me do this," Shiro says.

"Shiro, they're two small bags. It's fine."

"Please?"

"Just let him, Akira," Lotor snickers when Shiro's expression melts into a perfect recreation of a pleading puppy. "You can't win."

Keith tries, he really does, but it turns out that Lotor is right. He can't win against that look and it's wholly unfair. "Okay," he relents with a sigh.

Shiro perks right up with a brilliant smile, shouldering the duffel and turning the rollaway bag in one smooth motion. He looks over his shoulder with a wave and says, "See you in a bit."

Once the door closes behind them, Keith turns to Lotor to ask in wonder, "Is he always like that?"

Lotor hums in affirmation. "The man is, as Allura would say, a complete sweetheart. He's a devil in the pilot's seat, particularly during his heydays at the Garrison, but a complete softie otherwise."

"Really?"

"Yes," Lotor says. He plops himself down on the sofa in the sitting room while Keith inspects the rest of the suite. "Father often says Shiro would have been a great businessman if he weren't too earnest to take advantage of his charm."

"Huh."

Keith ruminates on that bit of information as he works in silence for a few more minutes, checking everything he needs to check. He returns to the sitting room with a nod, proclaiming the suite safe for the moment. "I would've preferred a room with fewer windows but it is what it is," he shrugs.

"Too many points of attack?" Lotor wonders aloud and Keith nods. "I'll keep the drapes drawn whenever I'm here, then."

"Good."

Lotor heaves a sigh then slaps his hands on the sofa cushions before standing up. "Let's go to your room, then. Shiro's probably working on a script to convince you to take the queen bed."

"Oh my god."

"Yeah," Lotor laughs and he leads the way out of the suite, back out into the short hallway, and to the door of the neighboring room. "Shiro?" Lotor calls as he knocks.

"It's open."

Lotor turns the knob and Keith has to stifle a hybrid of a giggle and a groan when he catches sight of the two beds on the far side of the room; his bags are placed neatly at the foot of the queen bed by the window.

"Hey, Shiro."

"Hey." He's standing in front of the open closet, arms akimbo and lips pursed as if in consternation. "How was the grand tour?"

"It went swimmingly, thank you," Lotor says, tone droll. "Something wrong with the closet?"

"Uh…" Shiro's expression turns sheepish. "I was trying to figure out how much space Akira needs for his things."

Keith laughs. "It's three days, Shiro, and I'm used to living out of a suitcase, anyway."

"Oh. Do you travel a lot?"

"Ah, yeah. Sort of," Keith mumbles. Then he says, more clearly, "I just need somewhere to hang my suit."

"Which is where?"

"In here." Keith goes to grab his rollaway and pushes it towards the foot of the twin.

Both Shiro and Lotor react to that with scandalized expressions, and Keith responds with a sigh that ruffles his bangs. "Shiro," he says, "I'm staying on this bed. Have you seen yourself? You're huge." Shiro, almost predictably, blushes at that. Keith doesn't say that the twin bed is also closer to the door, which gives him tactical advantage. "Take the queen bed, please. Lotor, I'm sending my suit to housekeeping tonight and have them press it or something. You're going to pay for it anyway."

Shiro blinks. Lotor raises his hands in surrender.

Keith clears his throat, "Right. Well, anyway, we should — GET DOWN!"

It's sheer luck that Keith is facing the window so he sees it: a shadowy blob hurtling towards them, so fast he could only shoulder Lotor out of the way. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith sees Lotor fall back and crash into Shiro; the best friends fall onto the carpet as Keith raises his arms to protect himself as the object strikes the window with such violent force, Keith could feel the glass vibrate.

He lets five seconds pass before he puts his arms down and deems it safe to look. The window is all but shattered; there's a circular crater in the middle with hundreds of smaller cracks spidering out.

"What was that?" Shiro asks, breathless, as he gets up from the carpet.

Lotor is already stalking towards the phone; he stabs his finger on the "0" button and growls as he waits. "Something," he grits through his teeth when the line connects, "just struck and broke the window in room 605. Yes, the one facing the beach —"

Keith tunes Lotor out as he checks the damage. He looks down, where sections of the hotel's putting green are visible through the trees, then out and farther beyond towards the sea. Then he checks the window again, looking at the crater left by whatever it was that struck the glass. It's reasonably golf-ball-sized and Keith's brain immediately formulates a possible, logical, and easy conclusion that the hotel's management could come up with: that there must have been an over-enthusiastic player who swung a little too hard.

The impact is too powerful, though, and the hit too accurate. Keith also doesn't believe in coincidences.

"Are you okay, Akira?"

He turns to face Shiro and Lotor at last, suddenly weary. Shiro's eyes are on him, concerned, and Keith allows himself a small smile, "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he says around a shrug. "No harm done."

"They're going to take care of repairs while we're having brunch," Lotor announces. Then he looks at Keith, his gaze intent, "The management says they're going to investigate, but since the room is facing the course, it's possible that one of the golfers might have struck a little too hard and a ball hit the window."

_Thought so,_ Keith thinks to himself.

"Must've been one heck of a mean swing," Shiro muses.

Lotor and Keith look at each other, expressions in dark agreement: this isn't a coincidence; this is a warning.  
  


⁂

Lotor, Keith, and Shiro arrive at brunch with six people already seated at their table.

"Hey, Lotor's third cousin," greets a man with long light brown hair tied back in a low ponytail. According to the dossier in Keith's possession, his name is—

"Matthew Holt, this is Akira Sinclair," Lotor says.

"Call me Matt," the man winks and finger-guns at Keith.

"Hi, Matt," Keith says with a grin as Shiro chides with "Be nice!"

"Everyone, this is Akira Sinclair, my cousin. Akira, these are Katherine Holt—

"Pidge!"

"Pidge Holt," Lotor corrects himself, "Hunk Garrett, Lance Rodriguez McClain*, Acxa Metzan**, and Romelle Arriva.**."

"Hi," Keith waves.

"And of course, this is my lovely bride-to-be, Allura D'Altea."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Allura says, her smile polite but warm. Her gaze betrays nothing but is soothing, nonetheless.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Allura," Keith says as he, Lotor, and Shiro take their seats.

"So how did you and Lotor find each other, Akira?" Matt immediately pipes up.

"Oh, uh… well, Honerva, Aunt Honerva now, I guess? She was looking for guest artists for her upcoming charity auction for New Daibazaal Children's Center."

"You're an artist?" Shiro asks, a bright smile on his face.

"I'd like to think I am," Keith says with a shrug. "I only do it on the side, though. I'm a full-time martial arts instructor."

"That," Romelle gasps from beside Allura, "is so badass."

From there, Lotor and Allura's wedding party begin to introduce themselves. Keith already knows what they're going to say, more or less, but his curiosity makes him pay attention. Matt and Pidge are head engineers at Sincline and Garrison Aeronautics, respectively; Hunk is an engineering consultant at Garrison and a full-time pastry chef; Lance is an elementary school teacher (and Keith will never get over that fact); Romelle is a veterinarian; and Acxa is a humanitarian worker.

"How about you, Shiro? Do you still fly? Lotor tells me you're quite the pilot," Keith asks when the introductions circle back to Shiro.

"Ex," Shiro says, nodding at his prosthetic. "I don't do much flying these days."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean… uh…"

Shiro smiles at him, small yet disarming. "It's okay, Akira. Plus, I'm sure Lotor padded my credentials a little bit."

Lotor scoffs at that. "I don't need to 'pad your credentials,' Shiro. You're the best pilot in the Garrison and beyond, prosthetic or no, and they're wasting your talent by confining you behind a podium or inside a simulator."

"I admit I'm good but I don't know about being the best," Shiro says in mild protest.

Lotor shrugs, "Don't listen to him. He's literally _the_ best and his skills are what saved my life in that crash."

Matt, Pidge, and Hunk look away from each other awkwardly as a frisson goes down the table. Shiro explains in a low voice, "We were testing a fighter plane. It was something new, developed jointly by Sincline and Garrison. Things were going well until we were about to land and…" he trails off with a shrug.

"Oh…" Keith says. He doesn't press for details and allows the two best friends to quietly simmer.

Allura sighs, "Well… I guess it's time to ground that discussion, hmm?" she smiles faintly at her own pun. Then she turns to Keith, "You said you're an artist, Keith? What's your favorite medium to work with?"

Keith's eyes widen in alarm, while Allura's flash with apology as she realizes her mistake. Shiro's eyebrows shoot up in curiosity, "Keith?"

"My uh… my full name is Keith Akira Sinclair. I um… I just use Akira because it makes me sound more um… badass, like Romelle said."

"Ah, of course," Shiro nods. Then he adds in a murmur that Keith still hears and sends him smiling, "But Keith is a nice name."

"Well, Akira, do you use watercolor?" Lance asks a little too enthusiastically, "I have a handful of kids who are interested in watercolor so maybe I can invite you to do a demo or something like it?"

Keith almost sighs in relief, even if it meant shining the spotlight back on him and putting on another layer to his cover story. "Oh, uh… I usually use charcoal and—"

As he weaves a believable enough tale about his artistic talents (which are admittedly there but not, he believes, good enough to be demo-ing to eager children), Keith is aware of Shiro hanging on to his every word.  


* * *

  
  
**_Two Days Before the Wedding_ **

As with any other time he's been assigned to a close-protection job, Keith wakes before his alarm. The drapes are still drawn, blocking the early morning sunshine; with only the sconces on the far wall as illumination, the room is suffused in an odd yellow glow that makes the hairs on the back of Keith's neck prickle. 

He reaches for his phone to check the time, allows himself one luxurious stretch, then pads over to the mercifully repaired window to open the drapes. The sun has barely crested the horizon, but its gentle warmth is enough to chase the feelings of unease that he woke up with. 

Keith knows better than to fall into a false sense of security, though, so he lets himself indulge for a few more seconds before fully starting his day. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and stretches again, standing on tiptoes and raising his open hands as high as he could. He groans in satisfaction when he bends and feels his back crack, "Oh fuck me, that feels good." 

"Uh, Akira? Should I… should I come back later?" Shiro's voice floats from behind the slightly open door of their room. 

It baffles Keith for a second; why would Shiro ask that at all? It's not like Keith was doing anything, he was just… _Oh._

"No, Shiro, it's fine. You can… you can come in." 

Shiro does and Keith suddenly wishes he'd said no, because Shiro is wearing a heather gray tank top, black running shorts, and black running shoes, and the combination is doing _things_ to Keith and his libido. 

"So I thought about waking you up earlier and asking if you wanted to join me on a run, but then I didn't know what kind of workouts you did so I just… got you a coffee. Do you even like coffee? Maybe you like tea? You can have mine if you want." 

Again, Keith is helplessly endeared. _How are you real?_ he wonders. _How are you everything I like about a guy?_ Aloud he says, "I like coffee, Shiro. Thank you." 

It cuts Shiro's rambling. He strides deeper into the room, closer to Keith. "Right. Here you go." He plucks the coffee from the paper drink carrier and hands over the cup. 

Keith meets him halfway and takes the coffee. He cradles it in both hands, inhaling the blissful scent of caffeine. 

"Careful. You're um… it's hot." 

Keith nearly chokes on his first sip. Shiro is looking not at his face but at his collar, exposed by the loosely draped neck of his sleep shirt. Keith swallows the coffee, feeling it scald a path down his throat, and shrugs the shirt back into place. 

"So, what's on the schedule today?" 

"It's actually a free day," Shiro says as he lifts the bottom of his tank top to wipe his face; Keith has to avert his eyes, lest he actually choke on the blessedly good brew. "The guests are starting to arrive so the couple will be busy welcoming them. The only thing we have is dinner with the wedding party and Lotor's and Allura's parents at seven. That's going to be in the private banquet hall on the third floor." 

Keith already knows this, of course, but he still hums absently in acknowledgment. 

"So, um, do you have any plans?" Shiro says as he rummages in the closet for a change of clothes. Keith resolutely ignores the subtle flex of a strong, muscled back. 

"I was just…" The free time gives Keith all the opportunity to look more closely into the people in the list Kolivan sent him a few days ago. 

Shiro looks up at him expectantly. "You were just?" 

Keith thinks of Lotor, his current assignment, and a small team of Marmora Security agents keeping an eye on the hotel. 

"I really don't have an idea," he hedges. "It's my first time here." 

"Right. So, do you maybe want to um, explore together? It's my first time here, too." 

"Why don't we have some breakfast first and then we can ask the staff what they can recommend?" 

"Okay. That's… that's good, actually. I'm a little hungry after that run." 

"Okay." 

"Okay," Shiro repeats, shuffling his feet. 

"Go take a shower, Shiro." 

"Right! Right, sorry. I'll be quick." 

"No worries. Take your time." 

As soon as Shiro has shut the door, Keith gives Lotor an update about his plans and advises him to take extra caution. He sends a quick message to Ezor through their secure line, as well as to the Marmora team to keep their eyes on Lotor and the list of probable suspects. 

Finally, he gives Kolivan a quick call. "I'll be spending most of the day on recon," he says, "I've put Ezor and Regris on high alert, and the team is already briefed about their assignments for the next two days. I've also given them copies of Thace's latest updates on the dossiers of our top suspects." 

"Ezor tells me you've roomed with Shirogane." 

Keith reels at the sudden change in topic. "Well, yeah," he says. 

"I was wondering when you'd get around to telling me that." 

"I thought that was… wiser." Keith is eternally grateful that Kolivan isn't there to see him squirm. 

"I must admit I haven't considered looking into him but that's a good move, kit." 

"Good… good move?" 

"Shirogane's clean as a whistle but jealousy has always been a big motivator. He's close to the Sinclines, too, so he's in the best position to do something without suspicion." 

Keith's jaw drops. Kolivan thinks he's… investigating Shiro? 

To further add to his distress, Shiro chooses that moment to come out of the bathroom. He's thankfully dressed in form-fitting jeans and a blue henley (that does a lot for his eyes and muscles). Keith doesn't know what he would have said or done if Shiro had come out half-naked. 

"—and we've also come up with more information about Ranveig and Branko. I believe Thace has already sent it over." 

"Right, sure. I uh… I gotta go." 

He jabs his finger on the "end call" button and flings his phone away, mindless of where it falls. Weakly, he sits on the edge of his bed and cradles his head in his hands. _What the fuck?_ Damn Kolivan for planting that idea in his head and now he can't shake it off. _Shiro can't possibly be planning to hurt or… kill his best friend. Can he?_

"Are you okay, Akira?" 

"No," he wants to say. He's definitely not okay. How can he be okay? 

Instead, he stands up, fishes in his bag for some clothes, and says, "I'm good, Shiro. I'll be out in a few minutes and then we can have breakfast, yeah?" 

Then he steps into the bathroom and closes the door, the feeling of unease he'd had earlier making a fierce return.  
  


⁂

"Are you sure you're alright, Akira? You've hardly touched your food."

Shiro looks at him in concern and Keith shifts guiltily in his seat. "I'm okay, I swear."

"Is it me? I mean, if you… I can leave if you're uncomfortable. I don't want to make you feel like… I just thought I—"

"No!" Keith says, loud and abrupt enough to make Shiro flinch. "No, it's not… I'm not uncomfortable."

"O-okay. But…"

"I just…" Keith heaves a sigh, "I had a very um, upsetting phone call about… something big." _That's not a lie, at least._

"Oh. Well… I mean you don't have to tell me about it, just… Is there something I can do?"

Keith melts. "Shiro, you don't have to do anything." When Shiro looks doubtful, he adds, "I swear. You're fine. Let's just —"

"I'm fine, huh?" Shiro looks up at him through his fringe, a playful yet bashful smile on his lips.

"Oh my god," Keith laughs. He shakes his head and hides his face behind both hands.

Shiro's smile grows, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "There we go."

A second passes, then two, then three, then an eternity more as they hold each other's gaze. Finally, Keith looks away and tucks a stray lock of hair behind his ear. "Thank you, Shiro."

"It's no trouble, but you're welcome," Shiro says. He looks away before adding, "Your laugh sounds… um, it's nice."

Keith can't help the blush that paints his cheeks. "Thank you," he says again. "Would you like to walk along the beach with me?"

"Sounds good."  
  


⁂

The good thing about their choice to go to the beach is that most of the guests are flocking to the crystal blue waters and the powdery sands to take advantage of the fine weather, which means Keith immediately found four of their five persons of interest.

Ranveig, one of Zarkon's oldest business partners, is sunning himself and drinking a violently red cocktail (complete with a decorative umbrella). Gnov, part of Sincline's senior advisory board and Lotor's godmother, is playing in the shallows with her two daughters. Janka, Sincline's VP for Acquisitions, is negotiating-slash-arguing with the waterfront manager regarding the use of his personal yacht. Branko, a senior manager in the munitions development division, is having brunch at one of the beachfront cabanas, absorbed in whatever is displayed on his data pad.

The only one who isn't on the beach is Lahn, a rising star in the research department. According to Regris, Lahn has been in the fitness center since six in the morning. Keith has half a mind to head back inside to spar with him (Lahn is supposedly a brown belt in krav maga) just to get a better handle on the guy.

Admittedly, Keith also needs to vent his frustrations. No one on the list looks suspicious or has a good reason to threaten or harm Lotor, not even Branko with whom Lotor frequently argued about budget allocations. Some of them can be rightfully considered privileged idiots, true, but killers?

He's so distracted, he almost misses Shiro's question about which martial arts he thinks will suit a body like his.

"Your build doesn't matter in martial arts, really. What you have to decide on is whether you like striking styles like muay thai or grappling ones like judo."

"Right. So do you have openings in one of your classes?" Shiro grins at him.

Ketih looks at him with a helpless little smile.

"That's not a no." The grin grows wider and more playful.

Shiro. Shiro. Shiro. Keith can't keep him off his mind, both because of just how damn attractive he is and also what Kolivan had said earlier. It makes Keith want to punch something or someone because… seriously. How can a guy like _that_ , practically a combination of an actual angel and a golden retriever (also an angel, in Keith's opinion), even imagine harming his best friend since childhood?

He can't. He can't. Right?

"It's not a no," Keith mumbles after a long moment.

Shiro nods happily, seemingly content with that answer.

The sun shines on, bright and cheery, and it makes the shadows in Keith's heart loom ever larger.  
  


⁂

By the time dinner rolls around, Keith's frustration has only gotten worse. The thing is that nothing has happened. In theory, it should be cause for celebration. In reality, it serves to heighten Keith's agitation. The feeling is compounded by Shiro, Keith's growing attraction to him, and his stubborn refusal to even consider Shiro as a suspect.

Because he can't. He just can't, speculations be damned. Keith could already hear Kolivan admonishing him: "Nothing is as it seems, kit."

And yet, it's also Kolivan who taught Keith to trust in his intuition. Right now, it's telling him to trust Shiro and keep an eye out not just on their suspect list but also everyone not in their immediate circle.

"We didn't have the term 'bridezilla' back when we got married, I think, but Honerva would definitely have qualified," Zarkon is saying. Everyone laughs good-naturedly, even Honerva, and Keith has to wrench his attention from his musings and back to the present.

"Is it so wrong to want everything to go perfectly on your wedding day?" Honerva reasons casually, even as her eyes fall upon her son, Allura, and Keith in turn. It's telling, most definitely, and Allura indulges her mother-in-law to-be with a nod and smile.

"If everything goes well—"

"When, darling, not if," Lotor corrects his fiancee with a confidence that Keith wishes he feels.

"When everything goes well, then we have everyone at this table to thank," Allura says. "Without all your help, Lotor and I would have probably descended into bridezilla or groomzilla territory."

"I think Lotor would have kept his head on straight. Such a reasonable boy!" Melenor coos. "But you, sweetheart? Oh, definitely bridezilla!"

"Mother!" Allura pouts. "Such betrayal!"

"Hmm, I think she's got you there," Romelle says as she daintily sips her after-meal tea.

"Not my own maid of honor, too!"

"My money's on Lotor tearing his hair out, honestly," Matt says and Acxa agrees with a hum and a nod. "You didn't see him when we were engineering the Sincline 5."

"That jet was my baby," Lotor harrumphs.

The playful banter goes on but Keith pays only half attention to what's being said. There's that prickle on the back of his neck again; he can't shake it off and it's making him antsy.

"Are you okay?" Shiro whispers beside him.

"I'm okay," Keith mutters back. He can't keep the impatience in his tone and it makes Shiro frown.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Keith plays with the remains of the herbed lamb medallions on his plate, cursing the sumptuous twelve-course meal out of which they've only had nine. He wants the hours to go faster, for the servers to take their plates and serve the rest of the meal all at once so they can get it over with and he can squirrel Lotor away back to the suite without arousing suspicion.

He sighs, running his hand through his hair. His fingers come out gritty, which annoys him because he thought he'd gotten all the sand out when he'd showered.

Then he realizes that the particles are way too fine and too sharp for sand.

Bits of gray powder cling to his fingers. There is also a fair sprinkling of them on his plate, stark gray against the bright porcelain white.

"What the…" He frowns as he gets another sprinkle of gray powder on his plate. _It looks like it's coming from…_

Keith looks up and notices, with dawning horror, the cracks on the ceiling surrounding a very fancy, very _pointy_ chandelier.

Right above Lotor, Allura, Shiro, and Romelle.

"Everybody up!" Keith slams the table with both hands and pushes himself back, his chair toppling over with his sudden movement.

"What's going on?" Shiro asks, although he complies easily.

"Everybody up, now!" Keith points up at the rapidly widening cracks on the ceiling. "That chandelier's about to fall."

They clear the table just in time for the chandelier to drop with an almighty crash. It scatters remnants of food, broken glass, and crystal shards, staining and scraping the white silk tablecloth. A stray piece of crystal catches Keith on the cheek, scouring a shallow wound on its track.

Shiro immediately notices the cut.

"You're bleeding."

"It's just a scratch, Shiro. I'm fine." Keith wipes the trickle of blood with his finger as he catalogs the site. No one's hurt, as far as he can tell. Lotor is standing in front of Allura, shielding her with his outstretched arms; he looks at Keith with grim eyes and nods.

"Everyone all right?" he calls out while hotel staff and emergency personnel stream into the room. 

He hears a faint chorus of agreement and his heart rate finally slows.

"We should at least clean that," Shiro tells him.

"Okay," Keith agrees carelessly, "when we get back to our room."

It takes them a few minutes. The first aid team checks everyone for injuries (Keith refuses to have his cut looked at), while the hotel staff extends their apologies. Keith catches Regris lurking in the background; he gives a little salute and stalks off, probably to report recent developments to Kolivan.

Finally, they're given the all-clear. Zarkon and Honerva stay behind to discuss matters with the hotel's top management. The rest of their group chatters idly as they make their way to their rooms. Lotor, Allura, Keith, and Shiro remain silent; all three men drop off Allura at her suites then head on over to the sixth floor to their own rooms.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Shiro takes Keith's hand and leads him to the bathroom. He closes the toilet, pushes Keith down on the lid, and tells him to stay put.

"Shiro, it's just—"

"A scratch. I know. Just… please let me do this, okay? It'll… it'll make me feel better."

He fishes a first aid kit from the under-sink cabinet and settles himself between Keith's legs to clean the small wound. It's already closed, surrounded by dried blood that Keith didn't manage to smear away. Shiro cleans Keith's cheek with utmost care, using a wet wipe to remove the blood and then dabbing antiseptic onto the long line of the scratch with a cotton swab.

"At least it's not as big as this one, huh?" Shiro says. He traces the scar on Keith's opposite cheek with the same gentle touch.

"Hmm."

"How did you get it?"

"Work accident." It's from another close protection job, a rising pop star with a rabid fan base; Keith had had to deflect an attack from an armed stalker who got in a lucky hit with his knife.

"Did it hurt?"

"Like a bitch."

"And this one?" He taps the freshly cleaned scratch.

Keith smiles. "It barely stung. Thank you, Shiro."

"Thank you for letting me do this."

"Did it make you feel better?"

"Yes," Shiro breathes. He's close, close enough to share the same air. "Yes, it did."

The desire to kiss Shiro envelopes Keith for a breathless, endless second. It burns hot and all-consuming in his veins and he has to close his eyes tight right to rein it in. To remind himself that he's on the job, that he has no business getting distracted or attached, that he needs to focus on protecting Lotor and not giving in to his impulses.

"That's good," he says at last. He bumps his forehead onto Shiro's shoulder instead, forcing himself to be content with the contact.

With a final sigh, Shiro rises from his position. He replaces the first aid kit, throws away the wipe and the cotton swap, then offers a hand to help Keith up.

"Thank you, Shiro," he says again.

"You're welcome, Akira."

Keith's heart clenches at the sound of the name that is both his and not.  
  


* * *

  
  
**_One Day Before the Wedding_ **

Keith manages to steal a few hours of sleep, which is a miracle considering the turmoil in his head. He wakes before his alarm again, this time with a headache along with a sense of foreboding. With a sigh, he gets up and roots around his bag for a change of clothes. He trudges to the bathroom, washes his face, and is lacing his running shoes when he hears the other bed's sheets rustle. 

"Whattimeisit?" Shiro says around a yawn and a luxurious stretch. 

"Early," Keith mumbles, averting his eyes from the tantalizing peek of skin between the bottom of Shiro's T-shirt and the waistband of his sleep shorts. "I'm sorry I woke you." 

Shiro squints at the bedside clock, flashing 5:35 A.M. in bright red. "Oh. It's not that early." He looks at Keith, taking in his attire. "Are you going for a run?" 

"Yeah." 

"Mind if I join you?" 

"Um…" Keith debates the wisdom of exposing himself further to Shiro and his… Shiro-ness. "No, it's fine." 

"Okay. I'll just change real quick and then we can go." 

True to his word, Shiro's in and out of the bathroom in three minutes. He's back in another tank top, running shorts, and running shoes ensemble. This time, the tank top is pink and Keith nearly melts. _God. Why does that make him even cuter?_

"Right, I'm ready," Shiro declares. "Did you have any particular plans? Because they have a running track on the other wing, but there's also that stretch of boardwalk on the east side." 

"Let's go for the running track," Keith says. It's closer to the hotel, which means it's easier to run back if anything goes wrong. 

"Sure." 

The walk to the track takes no more than five or so minutes; along the way, Keith makes sure to stay side by side or slightly ahead of Shiro. The man's biceps and shoulders are terribly distracting, but Keith thinks those are safer bets than staying behind and catching an eyeful of that glorious, well… behind. 

"So how long have you and Lotor known each other?" Keith asks in a half-hearted attempt to fish for information. Whether to prove Kolivan or himself wrong, he doesn't know. Maybe he just wants to get to know Shiro. He also needs a distraction from the aforementioned Shiro-ness of the guy, which is frankly an overwhelming thing. 

"Since we were five, turning six. So that makes it almost twenty-three years." 

"That's… a long time." 

"Yeah. He rescued me from playground bullies. I was a scrawny kid then plus I had buckteeth. Couple that with being the new kid and, well." Shiro shrugs with a little smile. 

"You? Scrawny?" 

Shiro snorts. "Honerva has lots of photographic evidence. She has, like, volumes and volumes of albums full of pictures of me and Lotor. You can ask her to see them after the wedding; she whips them out whenever she's trying to embarrass us." 

Keith nods, even as his heart sinks. "After the wedding." 

With a happy little smile, Shiro nods back. "Ready to run?" 

"Yeah." 

He and Shiro keep pace easily. Like before, he makes sure to say either beside or slightly ahead of Shiro to save himself from the temptation of looking. (Keith doesn't want to even think of the word "ogle" even if it's frankly the more appropriate word.) About twenty minutes in, Keith chances a sideways glance and immediately averts his eyes—Shiro's starting to really sweat and Keith doesn't need that kind of torture. 

To distract himself, Keith thinks of everything that has happened so far. The window. The chandelier. He and Lotor have agreed that the window had been a warning. What about the chandelier? Was that supposed to be the killing blow? Because that's incredibly unreliable—what if Lotor had been seated somewhere else? Was it another warning then? How could have the suspect done that to the chandelier without anyone noticing? 

Question after question runs through Keith's mind, each without a good answer. They distract him so much, he doesn't notice that an hour has already passed. 

"You okay, Akira? Akira?" 

"Huh?" 

"You seem a little preoccupied. Are you okay? Is this about last night?" 

_You mean our almost-kiss? _"I guess so."_ _

__

__

Shiro nods. "That was a little crazy. I swear I got a little scared there for a bit. The hotel's not even ten years old, too, so a chandelier just falling like that is just concerning." 

"Yeah. I'm okay, though, don't worry about it." 

"All right. Are you coming with us later, then?" 

"What's later?" 

  
  


⁂

It turns out to be a spa afternoon, scheduled right before the rehearsal dinner. Shiro's particularly excited, babbling about how the last proper massage he had was almost two years ago.

"This is actually Lance's idea," Shiro explains. "He told Lotor we should all do something together, including you, since you didn't get to attend the bachelor party."

"I don't mind," Keith mumbles.

Shiro laughs. "I think Lance just insisted on this because he loves this kind of thing. He has a ten-step skin care routine, you know?"

"Somehow, I'm not surprised."

"Hmm. Well, either way, we all win with a relaxing afternoon."

Keith agrees with an absent-minded hum.

He takes back his agreement when Shiro walks out from the locker room wearing the spa-issued purple silk robes. It's short and clingy on him due to his bulk, and Keith curses because this is the exact thing that he'd been trying to avoid all morning. He risks one look because he's a weak, weak man—lets his eyes wander from head to shoulders, chest to waist, thighs to legs, and then back up—then forces his gaze away. That look will have to tide him over for the next forever.

"Ew, Shiro, put those muscles away!" Matt complains and Keith, in his head, nods. "Akira! Your shoulders, too. What the hell?"

"They won't let me out of the locker room wearing anything else," Shiro pouts. "And what's wrong with Akira's shoulders?"

"Shoulder-to-waist ratios like that," Matt wiggles his hands in Keith's general direction, "should be illegal."

"Must be all of the martial arts," Hunk muses.

"Well, we can't have anyone arresting my cousin now, can we?" Lotor says as he herds the rest of the men into the spa proper. Keith follows, simmering in his silence even as the rest of the group (mainly Matt and Lance) bickers amiably.

"What about your dad, Lotor? Or Coran and Mr. D'Altea?" Hunk asks.

"Father is, as usual, busy with business. Coran and Alfor are having tea. They say they are, and I quote, too old to keep up."

"Too old to keep up with probably the most relaxing, most luxuriously pampering hours of their life?" Lance says, incredulous.

"You forget that Melenor is a physical therapist. She probably knows a thousand ways to give Alfor a luxurious pampering, as you so indulgently said."

"Ack, Lotor!" Hunk complains. "I didn't need that image implanted in my head."

Lotor shrugs, careless and unrepentant. "Maybe a massage can distract you, then," he says and pushes Hunk towards a massage bed.

By some wicked intervention of fate, Shiro and Keith get situated on the beds at the end of the row. Shiro's therapist coos at him, lamenting at the state of his muscles. "So full of tension!" she says and digs her fingers into his lower back.

It draws a deep moan of satisfaction from Shiro and Keith is thankful that his face and his fierce blush are already buried in the head slot of the massage bed. He wonders, though, if his therapist can see his pinkened back, because he could feel the heat down his torso.

He sighs and braces for both an indulgent and a torturous hour and a half.  
  


⁂

The rehearsal dinner is set-up in a small pavilion on a private beach that's a ten-minute walk from the main hotel proper. It's a breezy, cool night, the salty air invigorating and it fuels everyone's moods. Matt and Pidge are currently presenting Lotor and Allura their gift—a smart home system "that's probably smarter than you, Lotor," Matt crows—and regaling them with its features.

Everyone's ooh-ing and aah-ing at the demonstrations, Romelle leading the charge of asking all about the details. Keith couldn't join in on the curiosity, though. He's a little tense at the open environment, practically an outright invitation for whoever has it out for Lotor. Silently, he thanks whichever god put the idea of a spa afternoon in Lance's head because without it, he'd have been taut as a bowstring.

He's also comforted by the presence of Regris and Antok; they're well-hidden somewhere in the vicinity, keeping an eye on things that are out of Keith's scope.

"Thank you so much, you two," Allura says.

"We'll have to have an actual test run at home before we can prove your claims, though, Matthew," Lotor adds drolly.

Matt cackles. "Pidge made the AI," he says.

"He's got you there, Lotor."

Shiro bumps his fist on Lotor's shoulder as he stands up and takes centerstage from the Holts. In his hand is a small square box, all white and wrapped with a silver ribbon.

"Lotor and I have been friends since we were kids, which means he's shared a lot of stories with me. Now, don't worry because I'm saving all the most embarrassing ones for tomorrow. For tonight—"

Shiro pauses and tosses the box to Lotor, who deftly catches it. As Lotor unwraps his present, Shiro continues, "For tonight, it's going to be a tiny bit sentimental one. You all know that Lotor and I both love space. Stars, galaxies, the universe, everything. What you don't know is that one night, when we were nine years old and having one of our many sleepovers, we saw a shooting star. We were in awe. We were excited because it was the first one that we actually saw. We wanted to visit the crash site, even! But we didn't know where it fell so that plan was definitely out of the books."

Lotor is holding a beautiful pair of cufflinks, platinum inlaid with an iridescent blue-black stone. He's staring at it, unbelieving, and Keith has to stop himself from melting on the spot. Because if Keith's guess is right? Then those cufflinks are likely the best gift from a best man to the groom in the history of the known universe.

"Well, anyway, we grew up and became who we are today but I never forgot about that meteor. I'd like to believe Lotor never did, too, because I don't think you'd have named your cat Kova if you didn't know what they'd named the meteorite."

"Kova 606," Lotor says, almost whispers in fact, as he brings his gaze up from the gift to his best friend.

"Kova 606," Shiro repeats, "I now owe a lot of favors to the Intergalactic Museum because those stones in those cufflinks?"

"Oh, Shiro," Allura gasps, her eyes glittering with tears.

"Thank you, Shiro," Lotor says around a huge breath. Keith hears the hitch in his voice, overcome with emotion.

Oh, how would it feel to be a person that Shiro cares about. That Shiro loves. Even witnessing it like this is devastating and all-consuming.

"You can wear them tomorrow," Shiro says. "I mean, I don't think they'd clash with you suit since—"

The earpiece in Keith's ear crackles to life, so unnaturally loud it drowns out the rest of Shiro's words.

"KIT! Sniper fire!"

Keith bursts to life. He vaults over the table, scattering the remnants of dinner. 

"Akira? What the—"

"DOWN!" Keith roars. He'll do his job now and explain to the others later. Shiro is standing in front of Lotor, so he tackles the man, just as the bullet slams into his upper arm.

A deafening scream comes through the earpiece right then, so loud Shiro hears it, too.

"SHIROGANE!"

"That's… it sounds like Sendak."

"You know him?" Keith asks. On the other end, he hears a mighty struggle, likely Antok tussling with the gunman.

"Yeah, we used to work together," Shiro tells him. "Akira, you're… you're shot. You're bleeding! Oh my god! What— what's going on?"

"Later," he says, terse. To his earpiece, he says, "Antok, Regris, bring the guy over. Shiro knows him."

"Keith?" Lotor is still sprawled on the floor, Allura curled beside him.

"Yeah, they got him."

"Sendak?"

"Looks like it. You know him, too?"

"He used to be one of our test pilots."

Behind them, Zarkon and Honerva have gathered their guests in a small huddle. Everyone is either shocked or confused or both, many of them casting curious looks at Keith.

Keith resists the temptation to look over and glare, instead tending to his wound. It's a through-and-through on the meat of his bicep; it hurts like hell and it's bleeding a lot, but Regris always has a pocket first aid kit on him and Antok has likely already called their EMT unit. Keith can grit his teeth and wait as he applies pressure using wadded-up napkins from the table settings.

"Here, let me hold that for you." Shiro settles into a cross-legged position on the floor; he takes Keith's arm in one hand and presses the bundle of cloth using the other.

"Thanks."

"Why do you have that uh…" he gestures to Keith's earpiece. "And why did Lotor call you Keith?"

_Dammit._ "I… he's um. There's…"

Keith is saved from answering by Regris and Antok's arrival, the latter restraining a third man who's nearly as tall as Antok but not nearly as broad.

"Let me go, asshole!"

"You just made an attempt to kill a man and _I'm_ the asshole?" Antok says. Then he turns to Keith, "You said Shiro knows this guy?"

"Oh he knows me all right."

"Sendak," Shiro acknowledges the stranger—or apparently not a stranger—in a wary voice, "what are you doing here?"

"As this gentleman behind me has so bluntly put it," Sendak sneers, "I just made an attempt to kill a man."

"Lotor? Why?"

Sendak swings his eyes to Keith and laughs, a manic thing that makes the hairs on Keith's neck stand on end. "Lotor? Oh, no, no, no. I only made you think that so I'll have a clearer shot at Shirogane."

"What?"

The assembly gasps as one, Shiro's voice the faintest but understandably the most emotional.

"You stole everything from me! I should've gotten that arm! But you took advantage of your connections and got everything that was supposed to have been MINE!"

Sendak thrashes in Antok's grip, but Antok holds fast and it seems to enrage Sendak even further. Lotor, meanwhile, scoffs at the man. "'Took advantage,' you say? Shiro has never taken advantage of anything or anyone. Everything he has now, he worked hard for. And even if I didn't know Shiro, I wouldn't have recommended you to receive our latest biotech. You don't deserve it."

"Lotor, please. Don't…" Shiro whispers. His hands have gone slack, although they're still holding on to Keith's arm and the wadded-up napkins.

"Hey, kit."

"Hey, Reg," Keith says. He feels faint. There's a roaring in his ears, a sense of dread and failure enveloping him.

The highly accurate projectile to the window. The chandelier… The all too vague chatter that said _You won't see us coming. You'll regret everything._ Now everything makes sense… It wasn't Lotor. It was… it was… 

"Shiro, right? Here, let me do that." Regris removes the first aid kit from his utility belt and starts tending to Keith's wound.

Shiro frets beside them, worry evident in his features. "Is he going to be okay? Have you called a medic?"

"It's hardly lethal," Regris says with a small laugh. "But yes, we've called our own EMTs. They're already on their way, along with law enforcement."

"You're not law enforcement?"

"We're a security agency. But we're uh… what you would call 'extra.'"

Shiro hovers until Regris is done dressing the wound, and even then he's still visibly anxious. "Akira…" he says, kneeling back beside Keith when Regris has left. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't even…"

"It's not your fault," Keith replies and his voice feels stiff. "If anything… we failed our job here."

"You call saving my life a failure?"

"No! No but… we should've… I'm sorry, I—"

But Keith couldn't say anything more. They sit together in silence until the authorities arrive and they get whisked away to provide their statements.  


* * *

  
  
**_Day One_ **

Keith wakes to a bright spring day, crystal clear and crisp. It's almost too beautiful, like a mockery of the previous night. 

He's officially off duty, with the rest of the Marmora team handling the details of the investigation, which means he has an opportunity to fully enjoy the beauty of the day. 

Instead, he's packing his bags. With the case closed, Keith's services are no longer required. He's planning on catching an early boat out of the island and then a bus from the city pier back to the garage where he'd left his bike. He has a flight ticket out of the island, but it's dated for the following day and he doesn't think he can wait that long. 

"Are you leaving?" 

Shit. Keith had planned to be gone by the time Shiro got back from his morning run but… somehow, he couldn't resist the temptation to linger for a little while. 

"My job here is done so…" He shrugs as he pushes his suitcase closed. The Sinclines had hired him to protect Lotor. With Lotor now perfectly safe, it's mission accomplished for Marmora Security and Keith, and he's no longer obligated to attend the wedding. 

Because of course Lotor and Allura have decided to go through with the wedding. The ceremony is in the afternoon (they wanted to seal their vows just in time for the famed golden sunset of Arus), which means there's at least a bit of time to let things from last night settle. 

The preparations have been in full swing in the past few days, as well, and the incident had happened in a different area completely. All that's left to handle for the event organizers and the hotel staff are last-minute matters. 

The couple had also reasoned with their guests. "Well, everybody's already here," they'd said and that was that. 

For Keith, _"that"_ is leaving. At least, it's what he thinks is the best thing to do. 

"Your job," Shiro finally echoes. "Was that the only reason you're here?" 

"Yes." 

Shiro looks at him for an agonizing eternity. 

"How are you feeling?" _Someone just made an attempt at your life,_ he wants to say. _It's okay if you feel anything less than okay._

"I think I'm shocked, more than anything. I know Sendak. I know his story. I even worked with him for some joint projects. I just didn't think he'd be so… resentful. I'll always be grateful to the Sinclines for giving me this but…" Shiro flutters the fingers of his prosthetic, looking at it with a sort of melancholic smile, "I would've told them to give Sendak a new arm instead if I knew it would've come to this point." 

Then Shiro shrugs, as if an attempt at his life by a jealous ex-colleague is an everyday occurrence. "Enough about me, though. I should ask _you_ how you're feeling. You're the one that got shot." 

"I'm… I'm good," Keith nearly chokes on his words. "It's not the first time. I'm used to it." 

"Of course you are," Shiro says and his expression is unbelievably sad. "Thank you for saving my life." 

"There's no need to thank me, Shiro." 

"I'm thanking you anyway." 

"Okay. You're welcome, then." 

A long silence follows, heavy with tension and meaning. Keith's loath to break it but he also doesn't seem to be able to stop himself from speaking. He picks up his duffel, mindful of the wound on his hip, and settles it on top of his rollaway. "Well… I guess this is um... I'm going to—"

"You do know that you don't have to cut yourself off from everyone, right?" 

_From me,_ Keith hears the unsaid words and his heart clenches tight at the hurt in Shiro's voice. "Yeah, I… I know. It's just—" 

"Was everything just part of your cover story?" 

He takes a deep breath and gulps before responding with a barely audible, "No. Not everything." 

"Is your name really Akira?" 

"Yes. I'm Keith Akira Marmora Kogane." Then he goes on, his words running away from him because he couldn't not let Shiro know. "Kolivan is my uncle. He's my mom's older brother and the Marmora side of the family is a big one. Literally and figuratively. My dad's a firefighter and EMT. My mom's ex-military and now part of Marmora Security. I do teach martial arts and self-defense, but that's my side job. This—" he gestures to himself helplessly, "this is me full-time. I met Lotor and Allura less than two weeks ago because of a presumed threat to Lotor's life. We didn't figure out in time that it was a threat to _your_ life and we're sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"Please don't apologize for taking a bullet for me, Keith," Shiro tells him. "May I call you that? Keith?" 

"Yeah," Keith almost sobs out the word. "Yeah, of course." 

"Do you remember that morning, when I brought you coffee?" 

Keith is taken aback by the sudden change of tack but he answers nonetheless because he's once again feeling that need to soothe, to give Shiro what he wants. "Yeah." He remembers. He remembers every detail and his eyes sting at the memory. 

"That was when I knew I was a goner," Shiro says. "The sunlight was streaming in behind you and you looked so beautiful. So radiant." He walks towards Keith, closer and closer still, until there's barely a foot between them. "You're so… alluring." 

He grazes Keith's collarbones with his flesh fingers and Keith shivers at the touch. "I wanted to kiss you here. Bury my face in your neck and just breathe you in." 

"Shiro." He says the name around a keen, like a plea. 

"Please don't go, Keith. Please don't run away." 

The tears finally fall and Keith lets himself cry, shoulders shaking and chest hitching through it all. "Okay. If you want me to stay, then I will." 

"I don't think there's ever going to be a universe where I won't want you to stay." 

The words pull another sob deep from Keith's chest and he collapses willingly into Shiro, who catches him easily in his arms. 

It's warm in this embrace, Keith thinks. It feels safe. It feels like home. 

"So… Want to be my plus one to this wedding happening this afternoon? I'm the best man so I'm sure we can find you a seat somewhere. The attire is black tie, though, so I hope you're prepared." 

Keith sniffs and laughs. "Sure. It just so happens that my good suit is all ready. Had it dry cleaned and everything." 

"So it's a date?" 

Keith reckons they need to talk about a lot of things after this. They need to process all the things that have happened and all their consequences, and they certainly need to talk about the truth and their feelings. 

Right now, though, right now Keith wipes his tears and smiles. "Yes. It's a date." 

**Author's Note:**

> * I wanted to give Lance a more Cuban-sounding name, but also wanted to use McClain.  
> ** I used a name generator for Acxa and Romelle's surnames.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading. Let me know what you think in the comments.


End file.
